As soon as the door closed, and Jace was finally at last gone, Clary immediately sprang to her feet and locked the door. Tears had all ready formed at the corner of her eyes, before she ran towards the pretty canopy bed, and fell down upon its soft, gentle surface and sobbed as if her heart would break. Inside, she was completely devastated. She began to wonder just what exactly had minute, she'd been at home, relaxing in the bright, warm golden sun, working on a brand new painting, and the next, she was off riding into the deep, dark woods with Wayfarer following her father's very trail, and they'd stumbled upon the mysterious dark castle, and the final moment she was trading her life for her father's in order to save him. Urgent whispers …show more content…
and the sound of a knock on the door immediately snapped the girl out of her thoughts; and caused her to look up mostly in alarm. Someone or something was in the room with her and she couldn't figure out what exactly it was. Finally mustering the courage to speak, "Who is it?"she asked in a soft, quiet tone, not even bothering to hide the sadness in it. She must've been crying for quite some time. "Isabelle Ligtwood, sweetie.
May I come in?" a female voice responded from the other side. Clary was pleasantly surprised at how warm and gentle the voice was, well whoever it belonged too. Quickly rising to her feet, she walked over towards the door, not before catching sight of herself in the tall mirror above the vanity. The girl staring back was complete mess! Her once bright green eyes were full of sadness, and her red hair was matted, tangled, and had knots in it, while her skin was covered in dust and grime. She was indeed need of a much-needed …show more content…
bath. Using the back of her hand to wipe her face, she took a deep breath before grasping the silver handle, pulling the door open wide enough for someone to enter. A warm light immediately filled the once dark room, as the orange flames from the fireplace instantly became brighter, making it easier for her to see. "I thought you would like a nice, warm cup of tea, to help you feel better," a voice said. Clary looked around to see if there was anyone in the hallway, but she couldn't see them at all. "Where are you?" she asked, her green eyes looking back and forth. It was then she felt a small tug on the bottom hem of her dress, and she looked down and gasped. A teapot with large dark brown eyes was standing on the floor at her feet, smiling sweetly at her, followed by a small teacup and a feather duster. She started to move backwards, her green eyes remained wide with shock. "This can't be...I must be asleep or hallucinating. Y-Yo-You're..." she stammered, before she felt her back hit something very hard. She looked up to see a wardrobe smiling down at her, and that it had a face. The wardrobe itself was painted in pretty shades of red, with dark black accents blended right into it, dark brown eyes hidden behind long black lashes; with a slender, curvy form, and full red lips. "Careful there sweetie," it said in a sweet voice, smiling down at her. Clary stared in wonder at the wardrobe, before turning her head to look back at the teapot, the small teacup which was beside it, and the small feather duster. In that moment, she literally wasn't sure what to say. It seemed that not only was Jace wasn't the only one who was cursed/under a spell. But if that was even true, how in the world did this all happen? Was she to become part of the castle's curse just like the people before or was the whole palace under some sort of wicked, dark spell? She quickly sat down on the bed, "This can't be...It's impossible..." The wardrobe smiled, gently resting her large form on the bed as well. "A lot of people have said that," she said quietly.
"But here we all are!" Izzy replied, as the little tea cup hopped on over towards her. "I told ya so she was pretty sis, didn't I?" he grinned, as his older sister carefully filled the cup nearly almost to the brim with some hot tea, while a small container of sugar added two lumps to it. Izzy grinned, "I know you did Max. Okay that's enough, oh yes that will do. Be careful please," she said. A tiny white and gold teacup hopped across the floor, towards Clary who gathered her skirts kneeling down so that she could reach it and took a sip. The liquid slid down her throat, instantly it felt warm and soothing, as it began to melt her cold insides and calmed her stressed out mind and body from all of the events which occurred just a few moments prior. "Thank you so much," she said, as a half smile formed on her face. Max looked up at her his large gray eyes were bright as a michevous smile formed on his tiny face. "I know what will cheer you up. Wanna see me do a little trick? he asked. The small cup proceed to close his eyes, as he took a deep breath before inhaling inward. A small bubble formed in the very center of the liquid, as it began to bubble like water cooking over a warm cook
stove. Izzy's eyes widened in shock, at her little brother's actions. Max giggled, his gaze redirected towards Iz, and saw that his behavior had earned him a cold stern stare from his sister.
The story begins when Clary returns to the institute and receives a text from Isabelle, saying that Jace has frustrated the Inquisitor and has been jailed in the Silent City. While sitting in his chamber, Jace hears something attacking the Silent Brothers and discovers that Valentine has killed them to get the second Mortal Instrument which is the Mortal Sword. So Clary, Isabelle, and Alec respond to a call from the Silent City, only to discover the assassination of the Silent Brothers. Clary frees Jace using an improved version of the opening rune, only for the Inquisitor to appear and accuse Jace of going along with Valentine, since Jace was going to go on trial by the sword, but now it is gone. Magnus Bane volunteers to keep Jace locked up in his apartment, in which he and the others try to figure out Valentine's possible plans.
The Creature That Opened My Eyes Sympathy, anger, hate, and empathy, these are just a few of the emotions that came over me while getting to know and trying to understand the creature created by victor frankenstein in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. For the first time I became completely enthralled in a novel and learned to appreciate literature not only for the great stories they tell but also for the affect it could have on someones life as cliché as that might sound, if that weren’t enough it also gave me a greater appreciation and understanding of the idiom “never judge a book by its cover.” As a pimply faced, insecure, loner, and at most times self absorbed sophomore in high school I was never one to put anytime or focus when it came time
He brushed the snow off his shoulder and lamented the fact that he had forgot, yet again, to don his cloak. He walked through the forest, still carrying the standard of his kingdom of Ydri-Kurdish. It’s rippling darkness with that one sword in it’s heart emboldened him, and he walked forward still. He left behind the scene of his own battle against the terrible beast he deemed Kuris. He checked the map again, and saw that he was more lost than previously thought.
A thick plume of black smoke and ash hung in the air in a heavy haze, almost completely obscuring the lurid red glow of the waning sun. Below, a cloud of grey plaster dust twisted and writhed amid the sea of debris as intermittent eddies of wind gusted by.
‘All my life I’ve felt like there was something wrong with me. Something missing or damaged. Now I know-” (Clare 230-231). Clary still wants her memories back, and Magnus, angry, rants, that he didn’t damaged her, and that every teenager feels that way, not only her. He further sets his stance that her mother was trying to protect her so she shouldn’t get involved.
There, Clary learns that she possesses blood of the Shadowhunters although she is not part of the Clave. In addition, Clary learns more about her family history as she realizes her mother was a Shadowhunter who once was forced to be part of the Circle, a group who plans to rid the world of demons and replenish the group of Shadowhunters with the Mortal Cup. Not only that, but she shocked as her mother was Valentine’s wife. As the story progresses, Clary memories of the Shadow World have come back and she remembers that her mother painted the Mortal Cup on Dorothea's tarot cards. Due with her newfound power of summoning inanimate objects, she able to retrieve the Mortal Cup.
"I do trust you, I did it max! I can trust someone!" She says her happiness almost bursting from the seams, Max grins, he saved her, he saved that peculiar girl named Madelyn Frey and he'd never lose her again.
Kael ran. He pumped his legs willing them to go faster. Chin tucked against his chest, a handkerchief tied around his mouth and nose he sprinted, his feet pounding across the dry, desiccated land, cutting his way through the howling wind. Even with all his tireless training he was feeling the strain of the toxic fumes. Fire raged through his lungs spreading burning heat through his limbs and muscles, threatening to consume his entire body.
Although many will argue that great writing will require time and practice, opponents claim that great writing is like a puzzle which means one can put the pieces together to create an astonishing puzzle. This was the case when I was a 10th grade. As a tyro, I didn’t know much about writing elements and styles. Fortunately, one of my English teachers, Mrs. Roberson, change my outlook on writing. She taught me countless techniques. From that point, I started reading books to increase my knowledge and vocabulary. This was an incredibly wondrous experience for me. I was learning new information while expanding my learning capacity. This was stupendous. It was a life-changing moment for me. Throughout my high school journey,
I don't trust you," Skylar replied, glaring at me with her blue eyes. " Fine, but do not blow things up. I recall that you did that before," I muttered, slightly annoyed. "
My writing journey actually begins in Spanish, not English. I was born in Caracas, Venezuela in 1994, and Spanish was my mother tongue. I took some English classes when I was four and I had picked up a few words here and there (apple, oddly enough, being the one that stands out the most in my memory) but I did not learn English until I moved to the United States when I was five. Learning English as a second language meant that I struggled to catch up to my peers, but I pulled it off.
She found drinking bubble tea enjoyable using the half-inch-diameter straw. She could still remember her first taste of the pearl as it rolled up in the huge straw and slid into her mouth. Taking her first sip of the bubble tea with her elder brother back home was one of her unforgettable memories. “Oh, I think you’ll find that the bubble tea here is a little different than what you’re used to,” her Mom said, seeing Kimi’s dreamlike expression.
From late June to early August of 2013, I found myself taking yet another six-week crash course at Florida Atlantic University. The course in question was Creative Writing I. At the time, it seemed like a serious gamble. My experience as a writer had come through doing ‘academic’ writing, and, to say the least, I never considered myself someone with a creative mind. I didn’t know where to begin, and it felt as if I’d ensnared myself in another trap. Later on, a spark got ignited in my brain leading me to remember how my Grandpa’s dad was a former professional fighter in the bantamweight division. Said spark would compel me towards asking my Grandpa about his dad’s boxing adventures and other endeavors. The notes I took during this discussion
The drive home was silent. Neither you or Derek dared to break the tension filled air. You two were coming home from fighting the Alpha Pack, where you weren't supposed to come as you're human and pretty much useless against fighting werewolves. You've been crashing at Derek's loft due to the fact you are the second human in the pack and obviously more of an easy target than Stiles, even though you are a bit of a badass with a silver tongue. The reason you went behind Derek's back and showed up at the carpark where Scott, Derek and Isaac were fighting against the pack of Alpha's was because you are too stubborn to let anyone say no to you.
I write to you to tell you about my trip across the Atlantic and the experiences of that long trip. The ship was big in size but with all the fellow Christians made for a small living area. Our rations were small and consisted of daily porridge, bread, and stale water. As a sailor on the ship, I had the opportunity to get lost in my work by its repetitive nature. The crew and passengers were getting agitated and we were all looking for a change of scenery.